


Touch

by AKnightOfAGoodKing



Category: Avengers Assemble (Cartoon), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Android Jarvis (Iron Man movies), Fluff, Gen, Protective Jarvis (Iron Man movies), Science Bros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 09:16:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7165160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AKnightOfAGoodKing/pseuds/AKnightOfAGoodKing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>5 times JARVIS touched Tony and 1 time Tony touched JARVIS</p>
            </blockquote>





	Touch

Eleven hours, forty - seven minutes and thirty - two seconds. That was how long since his creator last taken a break, and the genius hadn't left his lab since, not completely shutting others out but certainly not leaving for food and water.

His creator had worked many times for far much longer without stopping for any substances, but with a body, JARVIS could help to make this habit a little less harmful. That was why he was coming down from the penthouse level of the Avengers’ Tower to his creator's lab, holding a tray of food with water and juice. The AI already knew how much coffee his creator was drinking.

“Master Stark,” JARVIS said, announcing his physical presence. He was continuing from the conversation he and his creator was having just moments ago. “Please rest and eat.”

His creator frowned, rolling  his eyes like a child from his blueprints. “JARVIS,” Master Stark whined, “I told you I'm fine. I'm almost done.”

“That's what you said three hours and seven minutes ago,” the AI spoke tonelessly as he set the tray on the closest table with a mostly clear area. “Please eat, Master Stark. I don't want you to faint again. Don't make me beg because I will.”

“Beg? No way. I programmed you for sarcasm and wit. I don't remember putting in begging.”

“My primary program is to take care of you and everything you need. If begging is something I need to have in order to ensure your well - being, then I will program begging myself.”

Master Stark frowned, gasping scandalous. “Well, it's not working, JARVIS.”

It seemed that merely words won't be able to persuade his creator, so initiating second phase of begging with dignity. In a matter of seconds, JARVIS’s eyes widened fell in a small crest and his mouth into a slight frown. The light in his eyes had more of a shine to its icy blue. He placed a hand on his creator’s shoulder, tilting his head at a slightly five degree angle.

“Please, Master Stark?” JARVIS asked with a more quiet and genuine tone.

In an instant, Master Stark, genius playboy billionaire philanthropist, crumbled. “I feel cheated,” he said, crossing his arms. “ _Fine._ I'll eat, but just this once. To get you off my back.”

Second phase of begging with dignity was released, and JARVIS smiled, picking up the tray to set it on the table before his creator. “Of course,” the AI said, amusing his creator. “Just this once.”

Master Stark picked up the ham sandwich, taking a bite. He ate everything with a pout.

_Imitating Captain Roger’s kicked puppy expression: successful._

_\--_

“Ouch!” was the cry Master Stark made, gaining the attention of two other people (plus one AI android) currently in the penthouse that afternoon. JARVIS was on standby near the sofa his creator and Mister Barton were sitting on.

“What happened, Tony?” Miss Romanov asked, sitting on the comfy chair. She had turned her head over to their direction.

“It's nothing,” Master Stark replied, shaking his injured hand. Small specks of blood were dripping from the fingertips of his left index and thumb. “Just cut myself with the razor.”

JARVIS was about to reach over to inspect his creator’s injury when Master Stark just placed them in his mouth and started sucking in them.

“Should get some bandages for them,” Mister Barton suggested, raising an eyebrow. “What were you doing anyway?”

“A little project. I felt like making a small wooden robot with a cool arm that shoots electric charged fire and a jetpack. It's to remind myself that I can make something awesome out of anything.”

“Boys,” Miss Romanov muttered, rolling her eyes. She turned back to the screen playing an episode of some drama Mister Barton enjoyed so much.

“Cool,” Mister Barton said with a smile. “Should totally show it to me when you're done. Maybe we can set Thor’s cape on fire.”

Master Stark giggled at the thought of that, taking his injured hand out of his mouth to grab the not yet completed wooden robot on his lap. However, instead, JARVIS had grabbed it, pressing a clean white handkerchief against the cut fingers with a disapproving frown.

“That was not a good idea, Master Stark,” JARVIS found himself scolding. “Your mouth is not a place to put your injuries. The bacteria that can infect-”

“JARVIS,” Master Stark said, sounding somewhat exasperated. “I said I'm fine. They're just small cuts. They’re not that big of a problem.”

“That would be believable if only your fingers weren't still bleeding. It seems that you cut them to the dermis.” The AI lowered himself to the floor on one knee to take a closer look at his creator’s injuries.

True enough, the handkerchief pressed against Master Stark’s fingers were stained red. “Wow, Tony,” Mister Barton commented, shaking his head. The marksman got up from his seat and headed to the large island kitchen and opened the cabinet under sink. He pulled out a small first aid kit and headed back towards the sofa, rummaging through its content.

“Here,” Mister Barton said, holding out a container of salve and two bandages to JARVIS. The AI’s eyes perked up at the kindness of the marksman. “Now take care of your master because he obviously can't do it himself.”

“Thank you, Mister Barton,” JARVIS said, giving the marksman a nod of gratitude as he carefully removed the handkerchief from his creator’s fingers and took the salve.

Master Stark made a quiet sound of pain when JARVIS spread some of the salve over his injuries, but the AI elected to ignore it in order to soften any blow to his creator’s pride. Mister Barton was still caringly holding out the two bandages in his hand.

“I don't remember putting a first aid kit there,” Master Stark mumbled, but he still allowed JARVIS to tend to his wounds.

Mister Barton laughed. “That's because JARVIS put it there,” the marksman explained. “I saw him put it there a week after you gave him this body, and I've found a few more around the Tower. I think they're for you.”

“What do I need first aid kits for?” Master Stark asked, curious and a little vexed.

“You have injuries yourself many times before, Master Stark,” JARVIS answered, placing the bandages around his creator’s fingers now.

Mister Barton gladly accepted the trash leftover, throwing it behind him straight into the trash with a precise and accurate aim. The marksman silently praised himself with a pump of his fist.

“Before you have me this body," the AI continued, "I could never get you even to clean yourself up, so now that I have the opportunity, I want to ensure that I can do that myself, along with actually tending to your injuries, with the proper equipment.”

There was a look of surprised laced with guilt on Master Stark’s face, and he seemed embarrassed as a light blush ran down his neck. “Okay, okay,” JARVIS’s creator said in acceptance, sighing. “Thanks, JARVIS.”

JARVIS smiled, nodding once. “Why don't you kiss his injuries, JARVIS?” Miss Romanov suggested with a sly grin. “I believe the American saying is to kiss his boo - boo to make him feel better?”

“Hey!” Master Stark protested. “I'm not a kid, Natasha!”

Mister Barton burst out into giggles, covering his mouth with his hands. He looked so amused while Master Stark did not.

“Anything for Master Stark,” JARVIS said without hesitation before pressing his soft silicon lips against the bandages on his creator’s fingers.

There was a soft click coming from Miss Romanov's direction, and JARVIS assumed it was from the camera of her Stark phone. “Natasha!” Master Stark shouted, his face red from embarrassment.

Miss Romanov hummed, pleased as she took a look at the picture she just took. “Very sweet,” she commented, putting the device away in her pocket. “Pepper will appreciate this.”

“Pepper?” Master Stark repeated with horror. “You can't do that!”

Miss Romanov smiled sweetly. “Oh, yes, I can, Stark, and I will. Try and stop me.”

Mister Barton could not longer contain his laughter and fell off his seat doubled over, and JARVIS moved back to his place by the sofa, ready for the next time Master Stark injures himself. His creator spent the rest of the night grumbling but made no attempts at taking the phone. He wouldn't dare do anything when it comes to both Miss Romanov _and_ Miss Potts.

\--

“JARVIS, could you come to my lab and pick Tony up?” JARVIS picked up in Doctor Banner's lab. It seemed that the doctor had just taken up from his short nap after falling asleep unexpectedly. Well, it was a bit expected since both he and Master Stark had been down there for almost thirty - eight hours without rest.

JARVIS felt relief when Doctor Banner requested for him. The Blackout Protocol was not something the AI could easily override and could only be deactivated by either Master Stark or anybody in the room.

 _“Gladly, Doctor Banner,”_ JARVIS said from the walls. It wasn't even a minute before the doors opened, and the AI stepped onto the floor.

“Thanks, JARVIS,” Doctor Banner yawning as the AI carefully picked his creator up to carry in both his arms in a bridal hold. “Sorry about the Blackout. We got too excited and didn't want to be interrupted. I know you get worried when you can't communicate with Tony for too long.”

JARVIS nodded in acknowledgement, making sure that his creator was comfortable. Master Stark mumbled scientific nonsense into the AI’s neck. “Thank you for understanding my concern, Doctor Banner,” he said, expressionless. “Maybe next time, I ask that the both of you try to check the time. If either one of you can do that and declare a break every so often, my worries will lessen greatly.”

Doctor Banner nodded with a small smile. “Just remind me next time,” the brunette said as he and the AI started to head to the door that lead to the elevator. “And place a huge clock on screen.”

“Certainly, Doctor Banner. Do you require anything else tonight?”

“I'm good, JARVIS. I can take care of myself. Just take care of Tony like you always do.”

JARVIS merely nodded in reply as the doctor stepped out of the elevator on his floor. “Good night, Doctor Banner,” the AI said quietly.

The doctor waved happily in response, leaving Master Stark in the hands of JARVIS.

Then Master Stark stirred a little. “Where are you going, JARVIS?” he asked drowsily. He yawned. “Where's my Brucie - bear?”

“Heading off to bed, Master Stark,” JARVIS answered as they reached the master floor.

“Oh, okay. Night, JARVIS,” his creator immediately said, falling right back to sleep. Unknowingly, he reached an arm over the AI’s neck and kept it there.

“Good night, Master Stark.”

\--

JARVIS stirred to focus when he heard the cries of his sleeping creator, clearly upset and fighting his way out under the blanket on him. He was dreaming again, a nightmare that had been occurring less these days, but when it came, it was alive and well.

The AI quickly activated his body and entered the master bedroom and carefully sat himself on the edge of the bed, placing a cool hand on his creator’s face. “Master Stark,” JARVIS said in a clear voice. “It's okay, Master Stark. It is 3:46 AM on Thursday, March 10th. You're at the Avenger Tower in your bedroom. You're not in the cave anymore. You're at home, with friends.”

Master Stark blinked himself awake, looking like the definition of terrified and small. “JARVIS?” he said, voice trembling. He had gotten out of his dream, but his dream had not left him.

“Yes, Master Stark?” JARVIS replied, brushing through his creator’s hair gently.

“Stay with me?”

There were times when JARVIS felt the feelings of extreme dread and helplessness when it came to his creator, but this was not one of those times. Instead, the AI felt a great happiness that he was able to do this, to give his creator the comfort of warmth and touch.

There must have been a bug in his programming because the AI felt a smile on his face before he could even command it. It felt very natural, and he couldn't say it was a bad thing.

“Of course, Master Stark,” JARVIS replied gently, taking off the Oxford shoes and the suit jacket Doctor Foster bought for him in attempts to dress him up for the part as the servant. It seemed to be a popular fantasy of the Avenger women.

The AI carefully laid down on the bed next to his creator, turning to the side to face Master Stark. Wordlessly, Master Stark shuffled closer to him, wrapping his arms around JARVIS’s waist and holding onto him like the AI was a teddy bear instead of an android.

Master Stark fell back asleep and didn't suffer anymore nightmares that night, and JARVIS laid there contently, happy that he could just be there.

\--

A hundred and three degrees Fahrenheit. That was the temperature of Master Stark after a fight against Doom in a terribly cold storm. It wasn't a completely surprised, JARVIS thought. A fever was likely after the event when it resulted in the Iron Man suit being half decimated and the emergency releasing, putting Master Stark right under the icy rain drops.

The AI could only blame himself for this. He should have placed more blankets on the master bed and raised the room temperature by a few more degrees. Master Stark was only human and the only one without any powers. His creator was at a great disadvantage, and the AI should have accommodated his creator’s physiology better.

“He’ll be alright, JARVIS,” Sergeant Barnes assured, putting together a hot bowl of porridge. The super soldier was the best cook of the Avengers, but he rarely made meals for others besides himself. Unless it was Captain Rogers, and occasionally Master Stark himself these days. JARVIS was uncertain what that meant.

(The AI would have to speak to Miss Romanov about his curiosity at a later time. She seemed to know the answer to any human oddities, and he liked learning from her.)

“I hope so,” JARVIS replied in monotone. He was standing nearby between the elevator and the island kitchen of the penthouse level.

“It’s not the end of the world, you know that, right?” Sergeant Barnes said, as if he knew what the AI was thinking. “He's bound to get sick once in awhile. He’ll be alright.”

JARVIS could only nod, finding a little reassurance but still, he was guilty. It wasn't a rare emotion for the AI, but it somewhat felt worse now that he could do more now to help his creator.

“Here,” Sergeant Barnes said, bringing JARVIS back to focus. The supersoldier was holding a tray with the porridge, a pitcher of water and a glass cup. “Take care of him for us, JARVIS. We trust you.”

JARVIS nodded again. “Thank you, Sergeant Barnes,” he said. “I'm greatly indebted to your kindness.” Then he took the tray and stepped into the elevator. Quietly, the elevator started to descend down, going to the master floor.

“Master Stark,” the AI said when the elevator doors opened. He walked in, the tray perfectly balanced in his hands, and quietly went to his creator’s bedside.

He placed the tray carefully on the night stand beside the large king sized bed, placing a hand on his creator’s face gently to wake the genius up. For the first time, JARVIS felt the heat radiating off his creator's skin. He felt like it burned him - shock most likely - and it made the guilt on the AI's program heavier. Feeling the heat was much different from just reading it off the charts that body sensors throughout the Tower made.

“Master Stark, wake up,” JARVIS softly said. “You need to eat before you take your medication.”

Master Stark whimpered, drowsy and sounding almost in pain. “Don't want to,” he mumbled with an irritated whine. “My head hurts.”

“Please, Master Stark. Sergeant Barnes was kind enough to make you something so that you’d feel better. It's freshly made.”

Master Stark made a sound much less irritated and more defeated this time. He moved to sit up, and JARVIS silently helped his creator up against the bed frame. The genius made another move to take the bowl, but the AI stopped him.

“It's hot, Master Stark,” JARVIS explained, taking it himself. The heat from the porridge did not burn at all in the AI’s hands as he scooped up a spoonful, blowing at it softly for a few moments before placing in front of his creator’s mouth.

Master Stark frowned. “I'm not a child, JARVIS,” he protested weakly. “I can feed myself.”

“I know, Master Stark. I just ask that you humor me for the time being. Everyone is trusting me to take care of you, and I take it as my duty to see that you recover with as little trouble as possible. It's my fault that you’ve gotten this ill.”

JARVIS was ready to go into phase two of begging with dignity once again when Master Stark ate the spoonful before him without arguing. They sat in a comfortable silence for the next fifteen minutes, the genius showing no more signs of protest as he ate every spoonful JARVIS cooled down for him.

“It's not your fault,” Master Stark said tiredly by the end of it. JARVIS placed the bowl back on the tray, picking up the bottle on the bed stand and taking out two pills. The AI poured out a glass of water from the pitcher and handed it to his creator, giving the genius the pills.

“With water, Master Stark,” JARVIS said, knowing that his creator had a tendency to take any form of medicine dry.

Master Stark did that too without protest, handing back the half empty glass back to the AI. “I mean it, JARVIS,” the genius said, sinking back into the bed. He let out a sound of relief. “It's not your fault. Don't blame yourself for something you can't change. I'm fine. I'll get better.”

“Promise?” JARVIS heard himself say. That was odd. He rarely spoken without running over whatever he was going to say next first, and this one word came out without him realizing.

Master Stark let out a sleepy chuckle. “Yeah, promise, JARVIS. I promise.”

“Thank you, Master Stark,” the AI managed to say before his creator fell back to sleep, now comfortable again.

JARVIS placed a hand over his creator’s gently, now feeling the burning warmth of life.

\--

+1

First, he felt a touch, a light tap against his cheek. Then sound started to register. Last was sight, a blinding light to welcome him back from the darkness. JARVIS recognized that his head was being cradled in his creator’s lap, an expression of relief on the genius’s face.

Oh, yes. They were attacked, right in the Tower by Nighthawk. The villain of the day hacked into the Tower’s system, and that was JARVIS, disabling the AI from every source directly connected to the power grid. That meant shutting JARVIS down, but Nighthawk didn't stop there. No, the villain also thought to implement a virus that would have completely destroy the AI.

It was only mere seconds that Master Stark realized the extent of what Nighthawk was try to do, and so did JARVIS. With only nanoseconds to spare, JARVIS managed to connect himself to his body and disconnect from the power grid of the Tower. Nanoseconds in which Master Stark believed he had lost one of his greatest creation because he was too busy fighting off mere minions.

JARVIS awoke to find himself in his creator’s arms, but only half of him. Everything from below his torso was gone, wires and gears cut and blown off, including his hands. “Oh, thank God,” Master Stark choked out, letting out a breath he had been holding. “I thought I lost you, JARVIS.”

“But you didn't, sir,” the AI replied, sounding less serious than he should’ve been in this kind of situation. “I’ll always be there for you, Master Stark, and ready to serve.”

Master Stark chuckled with a crooked smile. “Well, aren't you Just A Rather Very Idiotic System? Just wait. I'll have you back online in no time.”

“I thought it was Intelligent, Master Stark.”

“Well, the way you keep going on about taking care of me, I'd say you're not.”

JARVIS tilted the corner of his lips. “Well, Idiotic is it.”

Master Stark burst out into laughter, both of joy and relief. “Smart ass.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Don't be shy about pointing out grammar mistakes. ^^


End file.
